


Little memories

by Amiche



Category: ACCA 13-ku Kansatsu-ka
Genre: Fluff I guess, Gen, I don't even ship them romantically, Platonic Love, just guys being dudes and cherishing each other greatly, well sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9133246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiche/pseuds/Amiche
Summary: of a big friendship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Behold! the first ACCA fic (lol). I wish it was something better than this tiny, messy drabble but oh well. Can't wait for the anime to air and bring more people into the fandom!  
> Also, big thanks to Pati for proofreading this!  
>   
> //feel free to talk to me about ACCA on twitter: @makebelievemin  
>  
> 
> [Warning: English is not my first language, watch out for them grammar mistakes...]

* * *

 

Jean is lost in his thoughts, eyes fixated on a perfectly shaped, luscious strawberry on top of a huge piece of cake in front of him, when the sudden sound of a camera shutter going off interrupts the peaceful atmosphere of the cafe and brings him back to reality.

Startled, he blinks as the owner of the camera approaches him and pulls out a chair at the opposite side of the table.

'Nino,' Jean can feel his lips curling upwards involuntarily at the sight of the man. 'You're late'.

'Sorry,' as usual, Nino doesn't sound sorry at all. 'Work got in the way.'

The way he says _work_ , though, sounds a little sour, and Jean goes silent for a few seconds, trying to read the expression on his face before replying, 'It's okay.'

Nino's already giving him one of his trademark smirks, his dark blue eyes glistening with a mix of affection and mischief, and Jean decides not to press the matter.

'Did you just take a picture of me again?' he asks good-naturedly. 'Don't you want to use your shots on something more artistic?'

'Oh, your face is pure art when you think no one is watching you.' Nino laughs, picks up Jean's fork and digs it into the cake, cautious not to touch the strawberry.

'Please go get your own,' Jean pouts slightly. 'And maybe some tea for the both of us.'

'Yessir!' Grinning, Nino gets up from the chair and makes his way towards the counter.

He leaves his camera on the table, right next to Jean's plate of now half-ruined cake. It's an old-fashioned film one: he always carries it around to use it just for personal shots. Jean smiles. This camera's lens has seen him more times than he could possibly count. 'Just little memories,' Nino used to say when Jean, unaccustomed to his intense photographic interest at first, would turn to him with a questioning look after yet another frame was filled with his unaware face, or his slightly slouching back in loose uniform jacket, or his hands circling the edge of a coffee mug, or whatever was that Nino thought looked worth taking a picture of.

He reminisces their high school days. The day when Nino first approached him, that sly smile of his - something that hasn't changed with the years - playing on his lips. Jean was surprised, to say the least. For someone to notice his quiet presence by the third floor corridor window, to pay attention to his bleak, almost invisible for the rest of the school figure sitting on the windowsill. He remembers curiously watching Nino from the corner of his eye. Watching as he stops in his tracks, takes off his headphones, turns to him and practically beams, 'Hello.'

There was something so amiable, so odd yet endearing about the boy that Jean found himself at a loss for words.

Now, Nino is the only person he's most talkative around.

Nino comes back with a tray full of sweets, two teacups and a big teapot. The glassware clanks slightly as he places it on the table in front of Jean.

'You know,' he sighs, sitting down on the chair opposite of him again, 'I've always had a sweet tooth, but I feel like you made it so much worse.'

Reaching for the teapot, Jean raises an eyebrow at him. 'How so?'

'Dunno,' comes a nonchalant reply. 'I always feel like eating sweets when I'm with you.'

'You just need an excuse,' Jean feels himself smiling again. 'It's not my fault.'

He opens a white porcelain teapot and inhales the fruity aroma, careful not to get in the way of hot steam coming out from it. 'Better give it a few more minutes.'

'Next week, we're going drinking,' Nino solemnly proclaims. 'Gotta tough it up.'

'...Sure.' Jean watches as Nino practically salivates at the sight of two different kinds of chocolate cake in front of him.

It's an amusing view, really, but his brow furrows a bit nonetheless. He can tell Nino's tired. Stressed, even. That there's something keeping him awake at night, making him ponder something unpleasant as he does his best to pretend everything's under control. He's doing his best to put on a facade, to act casual, but Jean knows better.

Something is bothering his friend, and it seems like he isn't too eager to discuss it.

They all have their worries, but Jean wishes Nino didn't. He thinks about how much chocolate it will take to eliminate the negative effect of whatever Nino's going through and wonders if it'd require some strawberry-flavored one.

Maybe, 'toughing it up' isn't really the best option.


End file.
